


someone comes along and shows you a brand new way

by tryalittlejoytomorrow



Series: send my love down in those rays of light [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Established Relationship, F/M, Force-Sensitive Leia Organa, Friendship, Pregnancy, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 04:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10654575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryalittlejoytomorrow/pseuds/tryalittlejoytomorrow
Summary: "Still," he clucks his tongue, adds an extra layer of attitude as he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, ready to lay out his best argument. "I may not know a lot about babies, but I do know that you're not supposed to be making them when you've got that implant, which means -""Not again with your super sperm theory," Leia cuts him off, heat flushing to her cheeks. Beside her, Luke looks too mortified to move or speak; Han believes he should spend less time training kids and more time learning how to make them.--Han and Leia are having a baby. An interesting, if not smart, idea is what it is for sure.





	someone comes along and shows you a brand new way

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sort of companion piece to 'strong hearts and concrete stay alive'. 
> 
> Title from Grace Potter's "I want something that I want."

"Does the Force know if it's a boy or a girl? It's weird, calling it _it_ all the time."

Luke sends him a helpless look that screams _dude, don't start_ , at the same time as Leia cocks an eyebrow at him and lets out that heavy, half-disappointed sigh she keeps for occasions like this. "That's _not_ how the Force works, you nerfherder," she chides him tiredly, no real heat in her words. Pregnancy is taking its toll on her, nausea and back aches and restless nights followed by restless days, Leia straight-out refusing to alter anything in her routine and daily obligations for such a _ludicrous_ reason as _carrying Han Solo's child_.

Han rolls his eyes. "Well, maybe the two of you should write a book or something," he groans, grumpy. "It's not like they taught me anything about babies or the fucking Force on Corellia, your Highness."

" _Language_ ," Leia warns, looks down as she covers her still-flat belly with a protective hand as if the baby could hear him. _Could_ it? Han tries to mouth the question at Luke, but Luke is stubbornly looking away, willing himself to look as invisible as he can.

_Traitor_ , Han muses, but doesn't linger on Luke's lack of male solidarity for long as he becomes fascinated with the almost absent, tender way Leia soothes her hand over _their_ _baby_. It might only be the size of a peanut for now - or, at least, that's what Han inferred from all this medical nonsense the med droid told them - but Han can picture it perfectly, Leia's big brown eyes and her cute little nose. He's not settled yet on the question of whether the taste for doing whatever the hell you want is hereditary or learned; Han finds it best not to ask Leia about that.

"Don't look at me like _that_ ," Leia chides him, soft, fond, not even looking at him. Force or feminine super senses, Han is equally impressed _and_ terrified.

"I'm not looking at you in any way, Princess," Han shakes his head, not quite shaking off the stupid smile on his lips. It's a wonder nobody knows about Leia's pregnancy on the base, with the way he glows; Jyn Erso is as good at keeping her own thoughts private as she is at keeping others' secrets.

Leia laughs, a quiet, soft chuckle. She's amused, not angry, which is a good sign; Han _isn't_ too keen on making her yell at him for _daring_ to ask her to marry him. "You look too smug for your own good," she berates. "People have babies all the time. It's not like you did anything spectacular."

"Staying alive after the whole proposal thing _does_ sound spectacular to me," Luke chimes in, ever great with timing. Han almost expects Leia to punch him in the solar plexus; instead she simply rolls her eyes at her brother and pats his knee like he's a good boy. It's _unfair_ , how Luke uses the twin bond to his advantage when Han would be court-martialed for saying shit like this.

After all, he's sure that most people on Corellia would say it _is_ spectacular for a smuggler like him to have gotten himself a princess like Leia. Not that Han thinks Leia is something to possess, or cares about what the people he used to know think; but he still feels like he must have done something nice for Leia to go from calling him a scruffy-looking nerfherder to grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket and pushing him in every single storage room on base. That calls for celebration.

So it's not like he _doesn't_ have something to be smug about, _come on_. " _Still_ ," he clucks his tongue, adds an extra layer of attitude as he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, ready to lay out his best argument. "I may not know a lot about babies, but I do know that you're not supposed to be making them when you've got that implant, which means -"

"Not again with your super sperm theory," Leia cuts him off, heat flushing to her cheeks. Beside her, Luke looks too _mortified_ to move or speak; Han believes he should spend less time training kids and more time learning _how_ to make them.

Leia ducks her head, but too late to hide the smile tugging at her lips. Despite a rocky start - pregnancy being the _scariest_ thing she's ever experimented in her young life, and that includes leading a rebellion against the fucking Empire - Leia is _happy_. If the nausea makes her a bit grumpy at Han in the morning, if she snaps at him when he looks at her with those puppy eyes she pretends to find annoying but not-so-secretly loves, it still doesn't change the fact that when the med droid asked her if she would like for him to inform her on how to terminate the pregnancy Leia snarled at him in a way the poor droid couldn't process.

_They're having a baby_. In spite of the war, in spite of all the fallen rebels, _for_ all of them, perhaps. If not smug, then Han sure feels quite _proud_.

 

* * *

 

Jyn isn't used to _girl talk_. Growing up with Saw Gerrera and his band of rebels, she's painfully aware of how inadequate she can be sometimes, of just how hard it is for her to be around people, to trust them enough to feel comfortable and call them friends.

Which is _why_ she's utterly at a loss as to what to do when she finds Leia Organa _crying_ in the bathroom.

Jyn's not even sure she's ever had a _real_ conversation with the princess before. Senator Organa is a busy woman; Jyn has spent more time on missions for the past years than she's stayed on base. If she's honest, Jyn hasn't really befriended anyone beside her Rogue One team and a couple of Pathfinders. Finding herself alone with Leia in such a distressed state is not something she's _qualified_ for.

She could just retreat, leave the bathroom before Leia can see her; but Leia is Force-sensitive, perhaps not trained in its ways like Luke is, but the Force is strong with her. Jyn is certain that the other woman has sensed her presence the instant she came in; it is up to Jyn to do something. "Senator Organa?" she tries her voice, hates how weak and unnatural it sounds, almost droid-like. _Is everything all right?_ is the question she doesn't speak but that hangs in the air nonetheless.

She sees Leia's jaw clench in a nervous twitch as she brings her hands to her face quickly, wiping at her eyes. Leia isn't much younger than she is, but with her eyes red and shining with tears she looks her young years in a way Jyn has never caught a glimpse of; she looks soft, _vulnerable_ \- Jyn understands how _scary_ that feeling can be. She's felt it for so long.

After a minute Leia somewhat regains her composure, though Jyn notices she makes no effort to mask her tired features or pretend this never happened. "Jyn," she speaks her name, kind, friendly. "You spend more time with Han than I do sometimes. You can call me Leia."

Jyn's pretty sure that this is the first time Leia has ever called her something else than Sergeant Erso, too. It's almost funny how formal they've always been around one another when they're pretty much two of the most _chaotic_ people on Chandrila. For a princess, Leia is _far_ from being the perfect, good girl people want her to be.

Defying expectations and beating the odds seem to be things _both_ Han and Leia excel at, apparently.

"Is there - anything I can do?" Jyn asks, and wills herself not to let her gaze drop to Leia's belly. Her pregnancy isn't public knowledge, and Jyn's not sure Han told Leia about telling her.

Leia gives her a small smile. "I know Han told you," she says. Jyn's eyes widen against her will; Leia laughs softly. "It's not a Force trick," she adds, and it gets harder for Jyn to believe Leia isn't just as skilled as Luke because that's _exactly_ what she was thinking. "Anyone else finding me here crying would have run away. I'm driving poor C-3PO crazy with my messy human emotions."

At that, Jyn all but _snorts_. "You should introduce him to Kay-Tu. He finds us to be the most exhausting study he's ever had to process."

Leia chuckles, low, still a little shaky. "Threepio is trying his hardest, though." She pauses, dabs her eyes with a tissue; they're infinitely brown and deep, and the swirl of emotions in them tugs at Jyn's heart. She's never noticed how they remind her of _Cassian's_ , always so guarded but unexpectedly open at times.

Jyn moves without realizing it and comes to lean against the sink beside Leia. She can feel the tension in the other woman's body in every exhale, how her breath comes out a little sharp and dizzy; Jyn knows the sensation all too well, feeling like you're going to choke on your own heartbeat. She doesn't know what Leia is upset about, but, somehow, it doesn't matter; the fact is that Leia _is_ upset and Jyn is _there_.

She places her hand on the cool tile between them, a silent offer.

Leia grips her hand instantly, her fingers squeezing tight.

 

* * *

 

The lights are out and Leia's already in bed when Han emerges from the bathroom - he takes far longer than her in there and _she's_ the one with hair so long it reaches her lower back. It's cute though, how careful he's trying to be, not putting too much weight in his steps but _inevitably_ knocking into a chair and swearing under his breath.

He gets into bed with as much grace as Chewie while trying not to jolt her awake. Leia lets him arrange himself around her, slipping an arm beneath her pillow to wrap around her front, his free hand resting on top of the swell of her belly; at three months along the small bump is like their little secret, not big enough to be noticed by anyone but those who know to look.

Leia tangles her fingers with his. Han huffs a low, happy sound against her ear, presses his lips against the smooth skin of her cheek. "I thought you were asleep," he murmurs, sleepy already. Leia wonders how he'll manage with the baby, he who has taken to sleeping in so fondly.

She has many doubts about herself, too. Becoming a mother isn't as easy a transition as turning into a rebel leader. There's _one_ thing Leia is certain about, though. "I was just thinking I wanted to marry you," she says, soft, careful; the words should scare her as much as that truth, but they don't.

She feels Han's gasp against the column of her throat, the flutter of his heart colliding at her back, and there she feels it again, that sweet, overwhelming sensation through the bond, the Force, she believes. It knocked at the back of her mind earlier, and it's knocking again now, their baby not kicking her stomach but politely, gently sending a message flowing through her. When it started earlier all she'd wanted was to find Han to tell him - Han, who's there against all odds; Han, smuggler turned rebel general; Han, alive and well and here; _Han_.

He's speechless in a way only she can make him, but _happy_ , overwhelmed, Leia knows. And it emboldens her, that knowledge, the fierceness and the strength of it, the softness, too. _That's_ what Han does to her - he makes her soft where she's been hard and sharp around the edges. "That's how I think of you, okay?" she goes on, breaking the comforting silence with a promise he's made her and that she's decided she wanted to be around to keep. "You, me, and Luke, we're family. You're my home."

"So you want to marry me?" Han asks, tasting the words, making sure they're true. A little over two months before Leia had been the one calling him a pig for proposing; he reckons he's sort of right, being cautious.

Leia nods, tilts her head to the side, just enough to catch his lips, her mouth gentle and light as it brushes against his. Han maneuvers them around, turning her to her back and he hovers over her in a second and Leia relishes in the way he pins her with his weight, comforting and warm and safe. "You're gonna marry me," he repeats, dizzy, as he keeps kissing her, her cheek, her lids, down to the sensitive skin at the collar of her nightshirt. She can't quite make out the shade of his skin in the dark, but her own is feverish, down to the tip of her fingers and her toes.

" _You're_ gonna marry me," Leia huffs smugly, then _moans_. Han's hand is toying with the hem of her gown, slipping beneath the fabric; his fingers are cool against her burning skin, _bold_ as they stroke down, and they have all the time in the world to talk later, Leia figures, as she twines her fingers in his hair and pushes his head beneath their sheet.

She feels something washing over her, coiling deep and low in her belly, that makes her toes curl and her back bow.

It's _definitely_ not the Force calling her this time.

 

* * *

 

"I'm not doing this through a _holo_ ," Luke tells her firmly, like he's not even afraid of her a little bit. Leia feels like she's losing her edge; perhaps she needs to remember him that she can court-martial him for being a sassy little shit. "Actually, you can't," Luke teases, fucking dares to smile at her with that shit-eating grin of his.

"Stop using the Force against me, you jerk," Leia _whines_. She's pregnant, she's _allowed_. "Aren't you happy your dearest sister is getting married?" she tries pleading to his soft side.

"Absolutely ecstatic," Luke beams, the _asshole_. "But I'm not marrying you through a holo. Like, I'm not even sure I _can_ marry people? Who told you that? Ben never told me that. Mind you, the topic never did quite come up."

Leia wipes a hand over her face, willing herself to disappear. It would be just her luck, to finally agree to marry Han only for Luke to be too busy to come over. Her brother being something of the last Jedi is so _not_ fun or exciting anymore. While he's away training his younglings, Leia's pants have started not fitting her anymore, and she already has enough on her plate trying to find something resembling a dress _without_ having to deal with Luke's busy schedule.

"He loves you and you love him," Luke says soothingly, calming the storm within. "Nobody's going to care about anything else. And you shouldn't either. You're _Leia Organa_."

" _Organa_ - _Solo_ ," Leia sighs, dramatic. Han and Luke are such bad influences. "We're being modern about this. Union of houses, what's mine is yours, all that."

"All that?" Luke's grinning, so sweet, Leia feels so fond of him. He's _everything_ to her - big and protective, annoying and cute brother all at once. "Does that include bailing out drunk relatives?"

And here he goes again, _annoying_. She loves him so much, her heart's going to explode. She feels the caress through the Force, from the baby or from Luke, she doesn't know; she tries to answer it, send love through the bond the same way it came, but she ends up hugging the holo to her.

Luke's next words are disconnected, muffled by the fabric of her shirt.

He's there two days later.

 

* * *

 

Getting married is a strange thing. It doesn't feel any _different_ ; she doesn't love Han more, doesn't really think that's possible, anyway. She loves him so much she's wearing a stupid dress, a ribbon tied just above the swell of her belly like she's a gift or something. Han certainly looks at her like she is, all smugness gone, joy written all over his features.

Getting married is a strange thing. It's the most _thrilling_ thing she's done in a while.

 

* * *

 

 

The one thing Leia hasn't thought of before telling Han that she wanted a quiet wedding is that her husband and guests _would_ get drunk on Corellian ale, leaving her to be the only sober one.

Luke and Han start singing a song she's never heard, and Leia thinks they might have made it up themselves as they went. Chewbacca groans every once in a while, seemingly in tune though.

"Next time I tell you I'm getting married, Threepio," she tells the droid as she loops an arm around him, rests her weight against his side, "please scan my blood and brain functions to make sure I'm fine."

She kisses his tin cheek - Threepio seems to freeze, unable to process - and pats her scruffy husband's and brother's and wookie's hair on her way out.

 

* * *

 

"Hey, Andor!"

Cassian turns around in a whirl upon hearing his name being shouted across the corridor; at three in the morning, he wasn't exactly expecting to cross path with anybody around the base.

"General Solo", Cassian greets, though Han seems to have quit all pretenses of military composure. He looks just as drunk as he _smells_ , his hair ever disheveled, stupid grin plastered across his face.

"Aw, come on," Han slurs as he places a heavy hand on Cassian's shoulder. "Don't _General_ me, Andor. I'm no General. I did some noble shit and got a title for it."

_That's not untrue_ , Cassian can't help but think, but fights with himself to school his features. He stares back at Han, not seeing where this is going. A long minute passes, Han's hold on him growing heavier as the man clearly looks just about to pass out. "Was there something you wanted to tell me? Han?"

Han's head snaps up, and he nods too vigorously, wincing. "Yeah, yeah, there _was_ ," he says, clearly trying to remember what. As he thinks hard Cassian tries to estimate the quickest path to the General and the Senator's quarters, what with his wound still not fully healed, he'll never be able to carry Han there if he does black out on him. "You're a good man, Andor," Han finally says, heavy and solemn despite his glassy eyes. "Tell me you're gonna be good with Jyn."

Cassian doesn't know when he and Han Solo have reached that stage of their relationship where they can just discuss their love lives. Up until then, Cassian wasn't even aware that they _had_ a relationship to begin with. But when it comes to Jyn - Cassian can think whatever he wants of Han Solo, he knows he's been nothing but good with Jyn, too; that does call for a truce. "I'm doing my best," he tells the other man, certain in a way he's rarely been.

Han beams at him, childlike, so young. "That's good. She is - she's a bit of a firecracker, isn't she, right?" he chuckles, half-secret, half-joke. "Leia's the same. It's like, a girl thing or something. A _woman_ thing," he amends himself, his mouth forming a comical _O_. "They're women, very, very strong women. They're so much better than us."

"That they are," Cassian smiles, holds Han a little steadier, Han's fingers a little too tight around Cassian's shoulder. He's caught between patting and squeezing and _fainting_ on him. "Don't you want to go see Leia? Maybe I should get you back to her."

Han shakes his head. "Nah, I can find her on my own," he laughs, soft. "We're good at finding each other. I'm gonna go find my wife, Andor," he says in lieu of a goodbye as he turns around and walks away in the same breath.

Cassian watches him until he reaches the end of the corridor and turns the right direction, before he calls out. "It's Cassian, by the way."

 

* * *

 

"You _reek_ ," Jyn tells him sleepily when he slips back into bed, puts her hand over his face to push him away. "Force, have you been _drinking_?" she asks, more awake, though her eyes are still closed. "The med droids said you shouldn't."

At that, Cassian chuckles. "And since when do _you_ listen to med droids?" he asks in faux-outrage. "There's a party somewhere down the base. I stumbled on some drunk guests."

He nuzzles against her jaw, and Jyn snorts. " _Right_. You're _not_ kissing me with that mouth," she warns, sweet and lethal all at once, even in sleep. He loves everything about her.

Not one to let such things as bad breath come in the way of what he wants, Cassian presses his mouth to the hollow of her throat, and then lower, and lower.

Jyn isn't exactly mad at him for finding that loophole.

 

* * *

 

"Do you ever think of her?" she asks Luke one night. There are only so few hours in the day when Luke isn't busy training his kids and she doesn't have a ton of paperwork to do; between dinner and bedtime is the best time to reach her brother.

"Of course I do," Luke replies, never needing to ask whom she's speaking about. The bond between them is only _enhanced_ by the Force. Leia hopes her baby will be lucky enough to have a sibling too, one day - to know what that's like, being so intimately linked to someone. "My aunt - _our_ aunt, I mean, she was the kindest. It was Aunt Beru who hugged me after a nightmare and held my hand until I got back to sleep. She took care of my grazed knees, taught me how to read. But I always wondered..."

Luke's voice goes silent. Even systems away, Leia can feel his pain, the lump in his throat. It's been years but they've never really taken the time to mourn, to talk about their families - _their_ _family_ \- lost and gone in a moment. She's never even visited Tatooine to pay her respects, or Polis Massa, the moon where she and Luke were born. _Naboo_.

"Did you know Threepio belonged to _him_? Before my father reprogrammed him, I mean," Leia goes on. "He knew her, too. He stayed with her for months, while she was pregnant. He was there when we were born."

There's a knot in her stomach, picturing their mother. Happy, in love, even for just a short while. The idea is so _inconceivable_ , so out of reach - thinking of her immediately brings Leia's mind to him, too. She's curious, though; curious to know more about the woman who gave birth to her, as she will soon, too, become a mother. Leia knows the things a droid or an old archive could tell her; her name, her place in the Senate. But what Leia wants to know, nobody can answer.

The baby kicks, then, a real, surprisingly strong kick. Leia can feel its rhythmic stomping beneath her hand as she lays it on top of her distended abdomen. " _Oh_ ," she lets out, at a loss. There are tears pricking at her eyes, hot and blurring her vision. _Her baby is kicking_.

"What is it?" Luke asks instantly, worry and concern edging in his tone. "Leia?"

Leia tries to nod her head, tell him everything's all right, but the connection is fuzzy and that's not something Luke can just feel through their bond. It's _her_ baby saying hello, calling to her, and it's overwhelming and humbling but it feels so _right_ at the same time. Did her mother feel that too? "I'm - I just - I'm okay. I'm okay. I just need to find Han, okay?"

She signs off after a last _love you_ , leaving a poor, confused Luke behind.

 

* * *

 

She finds Han aboard the _Falcon_ , sitting alone at the pilot commands, a bottle of Corellian ale at his side. Leia's amazed that they still have any, considering how much he and Luke and Chewie drank at their wedding.

Han turns his head upon hearing her footsteps, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. "Sweetheart," he calls, sweet and fond as he extends a hand to her. Leia lets him tuck her to him, sitting astride on his lap. He acts like she weighs nothing when at five months along Leia is starting to feel like Jabba. He's such a dork; she loves that about him, it's ridiculous. "What brings you here?"

"My husband wasn't in my bed," Leia shrugs one shoulder. The baby has stopped kicking while she was looking for Han, but Leia's pretty optimistic it will make its presence known again. "What are you doing here?"

Han brings his glass to his lips, finishes his drink in one last sip. "Saying goodbye," he says, matter-of-factly. At the frown creasing her brow, he puts the glass down and takes both her hands in his. "It's about time I stop jumping from one star system to another all the time, don't you think?"

For the second time that night Leia is rendered speechless.

"Listen, I've had time to think about this," Han goes on, and were she in her normal state Leia would interrupt him and say _oh, you have_? But the idea that he's been thinking about their future, about their family - it makes her want to cry a little. Pregnancy is scary like that. "You're a Senator. Hell, you _are_ the rebellion. If anyone should be a General, it's you. You're never gonna hang up your coat - and you shouldn't _have_ to."

Han's so serious, Leia's never seen him like this. She's pretty sure that had she not already agreed to marrying him, _this_ would have sold the deal. "What about you?" she asks, her voice trembling a little. Her heart is beating fast against her ribcage, there's no way Han can't feel it. "You like leading the Pathfinders."

Han chuckles. "I like Shara Bey and Dameron, and I like Jyn. Don't tell the others, but I won't miss them that much."

It's so strange to Leia, sometimes, how sweet Han can be. He's an idiot but he's her idiot, and in moments like this, Leia has to admit that she's a bit of an idiot, too. Of course Han is sweet; of course he's only thinking about her. "You _love_ your team," she insists. She's seen them hang out together; Leia knows how much Han cares about them, how many risks he'll take to bring them all home safe.

Han sighs, his warm breath fanning over her face as he tips his head up to kiss her. "I love _you_ ," he says against her lips. "And I love flying. I don't need to be a Pathfinder for that. I can do that, from here." He lifts a hand to smooth the worried lines on Leia's brow. "I'm not gonna let anyone else take care of my kid. I'm gonna be there, okay? I told you."

"I _know_ ," Leia reassures him. And she does; Han's had numerous occasions to run away for the past five years, or the past five months. But from the start he's been the most excited one about the baby, something so _permanent_ that she thought would scare him away.

"So I figured I could take a page from Luke's book, you know? Teach. I'm the best pilot you've got, am I right?" he asks, cocky in a way he can be because that's _true_. Leia knows they wouldn't have made it more than once without him. She nods, proud. "I could teach a thing or two to your pilots _and_ be there for the baby. I'll just, like, take it on a stroll on the Falcon if it won't stop crying or something."

Leia can't help it - she laughs, loud and unrestrained, tears still pricking at her eyes. "Only you," she says through her laughter. "Only you would think that a jump to hyperspace would calm down a baby."

"Hey!" Han laughs too, fake-offended. "It's as good an idea as any."

It is, she's got to admit it. "True," she says, and kisses him again. Han's kisses are intoxicating, she's never noticed how much until now. She could kiss him all day; maybe then he would be less prone to talk shit like he does. She feels his hands at her hips, moving her so she straddles him, and Leia's gotta hand it out to him, how _focused_ he can be. She feels so overwhelmed all the time, she can hardly process two emotions at once; she's still reeling from how sweet he really is, but now another sensation overpowers her as he presses her against him. Her belly bumps into his chest, and Leia remembers why she was looking for him in the first place. "Hey, the baby - I felt the baby kick, earlier," she says between kisses.

Han's eyes grow wide, as they do every time she says anything about the baby. Leia suspects that Han will be the kind of father to get excited about everything the kid does, as if she needed any _more_ reason to love the dork. "Really? That's - that's a good thing, right? It's supposed to do that?"

"Yeah," she nods, smiling down at him. "And - I don't know how, but, I feel like it's a boy?" Leia says, hesitant. She's been feeling it for a while, and they could ask a med droid, but she just knows it, deep down.

"A boy?" Han beams, looking a good ten years younger as he does. "We're adding a little smuggler to the family?"

Leia rolls her eyes. Han's hand is warm against her hip and she wants him more than she's willing to admit, but he's also an idiot, first and foremost. "Girls can be smugglers too. Don't be that misogynistic pig."

" _Misogynistic_ ," Han laughs against the skin of her neck. "Fine. We'll have a girl next time, three smugglers in the family, it'll be sweet."

She kisses him to shut him up. After five years, Leia's learned it's the best way. Tangling her fingers in his hair she nips at his bottom lip, eliciting a moan from Han that goes straight to her core; pregnancy does have its moments.

Later, as she fights dozing off while he picks up their clothes from the ship floor, Han tells her he could have never thought of a better farewell for the Falcon.

 

* * *

 

 

_the end_

 

 


End file.
